There's still sand in the sandwiches

Cornwall inspired John Betjeman to write some of his finest poetry, such as Trebetherick, writes Keiran Falconer.

Betjeman's house and favourite beach are across the Camel Estuary in Rock

12:01AM BST 14 Aug 2006

Certain landscapes often find their voice in poets. Wessex had Hardy, Shropshire had Housman and Cornwall had John Betjeman, who from boyhood travelled every summer to the county, around Padstow, to paddle, cycle the lanes, make life-long friends and eventually end his days there. This month sees the 100th anniversary of his birth and celebrations in Cornwall will be particularly affectionate.

Padstow is as popular as ever, and no wonder, for its little harbour, fishing cottages and bubbly pubs are enduringly pretty. Much of its fame, of course, has been thanks to restaurateur Rick Stein, who is a keen advocate of Betjeman. His contribution, a personal take on the poet, Sand in the Sandwiches, will be shown tomorrow on BBC2.

"Just because you're a chef people expect you only to have enough brain cells for chopping and stirring," he says, "but Betjeman has been a part of my life for most of my life really. My family had a holiday home in Trevose and his memories reflected in the poetry are very much my own. I didn't meet him, which saddens me. I know he knew about the restaurant but by the time he knew it was a good restaurant and he would have come, he was too ill to make it."

Betjeman's house and favourite beach are across the Camel Estuary in Rock, a village that has always had its airs. "Padstow was the working-class side, and Rock isn't," says Stein. "Betjeman came over to the pubs in Padstow for a tipple but that was about it. It was the wrong side of the tracks for him."

Rock is genteel, with a couple of pubs, a Norman church but few people, despite its reputation as a bolthole for rampaging public schoolboys and girls. From Brea Hill, you have views across the Camel Estuary and the Doom Bar, a stretch of sand that has caused many a wreck.

The crooked steeple of St Enodoc is also visible. Betjeman loved this church and it was where he wanted to be buried.

"I was a bit rude in the programme about his gravestone, with all its wiggly lines," Stein says, "but it does seem a bit floral for him, in fact, gloriously florid." He has a point. The stone is on the right as you pass the lych gate and its light grey slate is engraved with ornate calligraphy. Wild flowers lie before it just as he had wished.

It isn't far on foot from here to Daymer Bay and Trebetherick. At first glance the bay appears to be little more than a car park for 4x4s, but the horizon widens at low tide to reveal a huge expanse of sand. The beach is sprinkled with tots investigating rock pools or building sand castles.

It is all very Betjeman - "Sand in the sandwiches, wasps in the tea,/Sun on our bathing-dresses heavy with the wet,/Squelch of the bladder-wrack waiting for the sea."

"That poem, Trebetherick, is terribly nostalgic for me," says Stein, "and it's why we named the programme after it, because after my childhood here even the feel of woollen bathing trunks, and those other details, illuminate a moment and feeling you almost forget."

Daymer's little café provides ice creams and the crying seagulls, excited children and wet dogs provide the soundtrack. The waves glitters with the falling sun and windsurfers are surprised by sudden gusts, their bright sails speeding and then falling into the sea.

Down a quiet lane is Betjeman's old house, Treen, bought in 1959. It's privately owned and has a luxuriant garden. Locals claimed that wild parties regularly took place in the house during the poet's day. Betjeman died here in 1984 and today it is all peace and gentility.

One of his neighbours, Sue Lambourne, features in the Stein documentary. "We met a lot of people who knew him, especially Sue," says the chef. "The anecdotes came pouring from people. Betjeman would use string instead of a belt, cycle on an old butcher's bike, be amazingly forgetful but adored by everyone."

Lambourne was the poet's neighbour during his last years, when he loved to sit on the lawn and watch St Enodoc through a hole in the fence that she had specially made for him. After his first stroke she wondered what to bring him in hospital. "But then I just went down to the beach and filled a bag with sand and shells," she remembers. "At the hospital his hand clutched the sand weakly and a smile broke out."

'Sand in the Sandwiches' will be broadcast on Monday August 14 on BBC2 at 9pm.